Story Jots # 6 – Peephole Under the Stairs

Honey, have you met our neighbour?
 
What? 

Our neighbour. The guy across from us in the adjoining apartment. Have you met him?
 
Ah…no, I don’t think so. Why? 

Oh, nothing. I was just thinking today about how strange it is that we’ve been in our new place for three months now, and the both of us have yet to lay a single eye on him. Don’t you think that’s a tad odd?
 
No, not really. Maybe this guy likes keeping to himself. He could work awkward hours or something.
  
Yeah, I guess. But you would think we would have seen him coming or going at some point. His door closing here or there. 

Baby, you are being weird. Who cares? Look, I am completely cool with not getting to know our neighbours. I hate those annoying stop and talks. Besides, shit’s tangly when people get too all up in your business. That’s the whole reason we moved. We hate people remember. 

All I am saying is that I find it odd. I haven’t seen him in the laundry room, I am there pretty much every day. Both of us check the communal mailboxes, no sign of him there either and his mailbox is right next to ours. Plus, it is not only his door, but I also never hear anything coming from his apartment. Nothing. It is always so quiet over there. And, I am not weird. There was no need to call me that. You are being mean. 

Continue reading “Story Jots # 6 – Peephole Under the Stairs”

Story Jots # 4 – Where is Danny Champagne?

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Go ahead, tell me one more time that you don’t know where he is, and I am pulling this trigger. I’m tired of games. You know, it’s actually convenient you wearing that mask. Now I won’t risk getting too much of your ugly face all over my new black marble floor. My wife hates when I do stuff like that. She’ll be pissed if she finds out I brought my work home. Only, this time she won’t be too hard on me. Because you my friend, were stupid enough to come here on your own free will. This is sort of like delivery for me. What the hell were thinking coming to my house anyway? To my private masquerade party? Then, have the nerve to drink my expensive booze and hit on my ladies. They are all on my clock you know? You got some balls, kids. I will give you that. OK, cut the bullshit. Where is Danny Champagne?

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Story Jot # 3 – Dark Twins

Yeah, that’s right, you heard me. There are two of them. Identical, except one of girls has a wound over her left collarbone, she’s been shot and now on foot. If we find and contain her first, we’ll have a better chance of drawing out the stronger one. She won’t risk another fight, her sister’s too injured. OK, we’re almost there, I need eyes trained on the treetops and more on that corn field over there. That’s her last known position. Stay sharp and remember, we don’t have a huge window to pull this off people. If the two of them are together for more than fifteen minutes, the wounded sister will heal. If that happens…God help us!

The Black Journal – (Take-Away)

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Friday, 9:45 P.M.

Ethan’s driver-side door crunched and creaked as it slammed shut. He was home. Another long day of chasing a killer without so much as a single clue of who it might be. Zero answers, just more questions. Questions, that for now had to wait. The only thing on his mind was finally getting to see his beautiful wife, Susan. Take one look at her and no matter how bad of a day he was having, she’d quickly make all go away. A hot shower and some food wouldn’t go astray either.

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The Black Journal (The Boardwalk, Morning Run, Stretching By The Car)

Friday, 7:14 A.M

Sarah! Hey, Sarah…wait up!

Jessie, Jess!
How? I thought you were still in Texas?

I am. Well, I’m still there that is. I’m only back for a few days, one of Charlie’s college friends is getting married. Our plane touched down maybe an hour ago, and knowing you’re still a creature of habit, I knew right where to find you.

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The Black Journal – (A Ride Home)

Thursday, 9:50 A.M.


Thanks for the lift home, Ethan. I don’t think I could have gotten behind the wheel after that.

No worries, Sarah. It’s me, and it’s the least I can do. You doing OK?

I still can’t believe it. Kevin…I mean, we only spoke a few weeks ago. He returned my apartment key and we had coffee together.

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The Red Journal (KJYN News at 6:00, Most TV’s In Jamestown)

Thursday, 6:01 P.M.

Good evening, folks.
Jim Gordons, KJYN News, first at six.

At approximately 10:45 A.M. this morning, Jamestown police responded to call about a possible homicide. Several officers and first responders descended upon an abandoned building earlier today located on the property which is owned by Breton Industrial, a steel fabrication plant. Details are sketchy, but early reports suggest the victim is a white male, possibly in his late thirties. He died in what some are calling a prefabricated high school classroom. A room in which, has been confirmed was not on the property just a few days ago. The man’s identity is currently being withheld until authorities can inform his next of kin.

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The Red Journal (Downtown, Some Sleazy Bar)

WEDNESDAY, 10:19 A.M.

It’s been a few days.
All still remains quiet in my little neighborhood.
Not that I am concerned or surprised.
People here are so stupid.
I’m at this shithole of a bar.
For a message from a friend. It stinks…bad!
As instructed.
Third table on the left, by the back window.
The bartender will bring only a napkin.
Ah, good man, right on time.
I’m a stickler for punctuality.
And, it seems I’m getting much better at this.
I’ve been informed the chap from the other night was a teacher.
Teachers can be bad too.
Nonetheless, he had it coming.
Let’s just say, we all have lessons to learn…